


Reverse, stop

by pollitt



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/pseuds/pollitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, the only way forward is to go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverse, stop

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Maverick for her beta and cheerleading.

The room is bleached white when John's vision clears. There's still some sand tickling the back of his throat and it hits him--what happened, where he is, and who should be there.

"Great, you're awake. Let's go."

Rodney's hologram appears, waiting for him just as he said he would be. Like he promised.

"Sheppard. John. We don't have time. It's--" The hologram flashes in and out for a split second that kicks John in his gut.

"Right." John coughs up the last bits of sand that have been there for, Christ, probably close to a thousand years, and follows Rodney to the gate.

John follows the instructions as Rodney says them and before his head's cleared from its stasis haze the event horizon's shimmering and he's facing the hologram of a Rodney McKay he hopes never has to exist. His hand passes through the space where Rodney's chest--his heart--would be.

"Just checking," he says, and Rodney smiles in understanding. "Thanks, Rodney."

"Good luck, John." Rodney's face grows serious. "You're about to save the world."

"Thanks to you." John steps toward the event horizon, turning at the last moment to watch as a smile, sudden and bright and beatific spreads across Rodney's face and he flickers out.

John stumbles through the gate, through to his Atlantis and the waiting, armed marines. Sam is there, and Rodney--young, uniformed, confused, _touchable_ Rodney--and John can only think to say, "Rodney, you're a genius."

John wants to kiss the look on Rodney's face, wants to pull him into an empty room and get him naked, to lock themselves away and break every imaginable law of physics until their skin is raw and their bodies are tangled and they've burned away every thread that could tie this present to the future he'd just left.

But he can't, can't even pull Rodney into a dark corner and bury his nose in the crook of Rodney's neck and just breathe him in, not right now. What he can do is grab Rodney's arm and guide him along toward the infirmary so Dr. Keller can prod him, poke him, scan him and make sure he's not one of Michael's clones. That connection, his fingers on Rodney's arm, and the words that are coming out of his mouth--solar flares and 50,000 years of change--lay atop the buzz of fear, happiness and need. Fear for Teyla and the doom of Atlantis. Happiness of reunion, the chance to make things right. Need for Rodney, to save Teyla.

Dr. Keller is waiting for him and as she runs her tests, Rodney hovers next to his bed, asking rapid fire questions and punching information in the screen of his data pad. John catches a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye and feels the sharp pressure of the needle as blood is drawn, and he grits out an answer. Rodney winces in sympathy and John doesn't miss his quick look toward Dr. Keller. Knowing what he knows, John's not sure what he expects to see in that split second but whatever was there--if anything had been there--is gone.

"McKay, you're making me nervous," Keller says, looking at her computer screen.

"I'm sorry. I just... Is he him? All him?"

"I'll know that soon enough." Dr. Keller looks at Rodney like John imagines a doctor might look at a kid getting his first shot. "You can hold his hand if it'll make you feel better."

"Oh." Rodney looks abashed, like he'd just had to be told two plus two equals four. "Right."

If John were to live 50,000 years, long enough for Atlantis to sink into the sand and the sun to turn into a red giant, he's certain there wouldn't be anything as perfect as the way Rodney's hand fits into his.

"I didn't--" Dr. Keller's jaw drops almost comically when she looks up at them, and John watches the progression of expressions that play across her face--from confusion and surprise to realization. "Oh. _Oh._ Oh."

A squeeze to John's hand brings his attention back to the man next to him. Rodney's looking at him like he's the answer to the Grand Unification Theory and the Millennium questions all wrapped up in a dusty, scruffy package.

In another future, John never made it back through the gate and Rodney had to survive as everyone he loved died. But the truth is, in _this_ future John did return. He's here now and no one can blame him for reaching out and touching Rodney's face, for pulling Rodney's mouth to his, for staking his claim. On this Rodney--_his_ Rodney. His mouth is dry and his lips chapped--the desert will do that to you--but Rodney's mouth is wet heat, is an oasis in a future desert and an uncertain present. He takes the gift offered, letting it quench his thirst, and it's enough. It has to be. It's enough to sustain him--them--through the upcoming hours, days, or even months, until John's fulfilled his promise to a Rodney who will never exist, until they find Teyla and bring her home.


End file.
